


Starting Out Friendly

by Helmight, Kenocka



Series: The City [1]
Category: League of Legends
Genre: Gen, Glorius Evolution Future, Void Invasion Future, WingStaff - Freeform, viktor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 22:02:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/970770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helmight/pseuds/Helmight, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kenocka/pseuds/Kenocka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Glorious Evolution is upon Runeterra and the only hope left is within the City. For centuries it's been that way but how much longer will living off the scraps of bygone days sustain everyone? How does hope or any emotion but despair begin to rear its head?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starting Out Friendly

**Author's Note:**

> Okay idefk where this shit came from but have at it. It's set in the future of Aether Wing Kayle and is probably AU as fuck as well as being unfinished but the bug bit and I obeyed.
> 
> Rating may go up. Inspired by Tumblr RPs. Expect sporadic updates. I'm typing this shit from my phone since my computer took a flying shit on me.

Kayle had shown up unannounced and with only the simple request that she be allowed to spend time around one of the only familiar faces that she still completely recognized centuries after the fall of the first Institute of War. Truth be told it came as no surprise that the few surviving members of the original League of Legends would seek one another out. That bond could not be so easily made and on a world where immortals were nearly nonexistent the few still alive kept fairly close to each other. To mortal eyes it might have seemed otherwise but for those that would outlive the structures built around them it was more than enough. After so many decades of knowing one another a slight intake of air unheard or discarded as simple breathing had definitive tone and mood. It was how, even able to see her face, a stone wall and so carefully devoid of any kind of tell, Nasus knew the angel was having what many in and out of their exclusive circle called "a bad one". The loneliness and aching and simply the _years_ were having an effect on her. Caused by a multitude of factors, "a bad one" happened when they went too long without contact from one another or when thoughts of those (short-lived) allies that had become friends inevitably died of age or in battle and the thoughts got to be too much.

It was post traumatic stress disorder and everyone knew it but couldn't afford to have their oldest and strongest warriors taken out of the fight. No matter how badly off any immortal was mentally, even most of the mortal troops got screwed on that, they had to be kept on the front lines. Unless someone was stark raving loony then if you had the training and capability you had a weapon in your hands and boots in the dirt.

All Nasus had to do was step aside and Kayle walked in wordlessly. Talking helped but people came to him simply to be in that undeniably patient and understanding silence. Most of the time the man didn't want to talk and just let whoever in to relax and bask in the relative quiet of his age and the privacy of a suite gifted to him for all he had done for the City since the start of Viktor's insane ambitions. Today's visitor understood that and didn't even bother with an explanation that they both already had memorized. She just walked over to his bed, the only piece of furniture in the room that anyone could sit on, and after carefully setting her mechanical wings against a chest of drawers, scooted back until her back hit the wall. She looked around for the remote while her host copied her, picking up an older model of the e-pads that were everywhere now, and when she found it flipped randomly to anything but the news and the weather. 

She settled on a program about something mechanical and knew within minutes that even though she rarely ever watched the screens that it was a rerun. It was always like that whenever she decided to make use of the dusty device in her own suite. No matter how seldom she used the thing if a program she would entertain watching came on it was rarely the latest unaired episode. If it wasn't one she hadn't seen then it was a season finale. One day when she would bother to set up the recording option. Now the noise and sights and the unyielding steadiness beside her were enough to give her a measure of peace.


End file.
